The Partners in the Tent
by lrigD
Summary: Booth and Brennan are out on a case in rural Virginia and they need a place to sleep. Post 5x16 but before season 6, enjoy! Second chapter is an alternative, M-rated ending.
1. Chapter 1

**_Oh wow. This really got a life of its own._**

**_And let me just tell you beforehand - it's shamelessly cliché and don't expect too much. I just wanted to write it really badly. Also, it's quite late right now and I don't have time to read through it again, so I apologize for any mistakes.  
_**

**_Title: The Partners in the Tent  
Author: lrigD  
Word count: 4,230 (which makes this my longest one-shot ever...)  
Rating: T  
Summary: Booth and Brennan are out on a case in rural Virginia and need a place to sleep.  
Disclaimer: Yup, don't own them._**

Oh, it is important to keep in mind that this is post 5x16, but pre season 6 (and thus 6x09). It doesn't follow any existing storyline in season 5, so I guess you'd call it... AU?

Enjoy!  


**_

* * *

_**

"I'm sorry, Sir, but we simply have no rooms left."

The man sounded genuinely apologetic and Booth was sure he was telling the truth, but after the day he'd had he wasn't willing to accept the truth quite so easily.

"How can you have no rooms?" said Booth, frustrated. "Don't you guys prepare for busy seasons or something?"

"Sir, our definition of 'busy' is three cows and a horse," the man replied with similar frustration. Beside him, Brennan snorted with unexpected laughter.

"Well, don't you even have an attic or something?" Booth asked, resigning himself to defeat.

"We do, but I don't recommend going there. Haven't even been up there in years; I think the floor is rotten through."

"Great," said Booth. "So where're we supposed to sleep now?"

"Booth," Brennan laid a gentle hand on his arm. He looked at her hand, surprised. They hadn't really touched each other in a while, and he was surprised by the swift emotion rising up in him. "It's not this man's fault that there are no rooms available," she said complacently. Then she turned to the owner of the little motel. "Do you have any alternative sleeping arrangements we could make use of?"

Booth could see the man translating her words before answering. "Well…" he said carefully. "We do have some sleeping bags."

Booth looked around; the reception area of the motel seemed to be nothing more than a hole spared out in the wall: there wasn't even room for a chair, let alone a sleeping bag.

The man followed Booth's look. "We also have a tent, Sir, if you decide to stay here."

"Well, we can't really go anywhere else, can we?" Booth replied rhetorically, resigning himself to the fact that he and Brennan were going to spend the night here… somehow. "So where's this tent?"

An hour later, the small tent had been erected in the motel's small backyard and Booth's respect for his partner had increased tenfold as she had single-handedly set up the tent while Booth had gone to retrieve the sleeping bags from the motel owner.

He cursed Louis Adams for committing the murder where he had; a small, forgotten place in the middle of nowhere in Virginia. He couldn't fathom how this hotel could've been booked up, but he supposed there were plenty of hunting grounds around: the woods around here were dense and, he imagined, scarcely visited.  
The murder had been solved and they could get back home, but after a round of celebratory drinks Booth felt it was both dangerous and irresponsible to drive this late at night, and they had instead opted for a night at a motel. Too bad this had been the only one in the area…

"Booth, come inside the tent, then we can close the flap." Brennan's matter-of-fact voice reached him from inside the tent and having been too busy cursing the place before, the realization finally dawned.

He was going to share a tent with Bones.

Immediately he was gripped with a tension he had not felt in a while. A year ago, he would've dreamed about this opportunity. He would've jumped at the chance to spend some time with the woman he was pretty sure he loved, especially if that time was to be spent in close proximity to one another.  
But now… Three months after what Booth had come to call 'The Incident', he dreaded the coming night.

It was going to be awkward, surely, and Brennan would brush it aside with her usual practicality, but he wasn't that way. He couldn't just forget.  
He couldn't go back on their sleeping arrangements now - the motel owner had gone to far too much trouble getting the tent and sleeping bags to do that. No, he had no choice; he was going to have to spend the night with her. Alone. In a tent.

"Booth, why are you still standing there?" Once again, Brennan's voice penetrated his thoughts and this time he moved towards the tent, looking inside to see Brennan sitting cross-legged, frowning at him.

"It's cold outside, and while it is not much warmer here, the tent provides significant protection against the elements." She moved the flap aside to let him enter and he did so, automatically. Once he was inside, she quickly zipped the entry shut and they were alone in their canvas cocoon.

He stared at her a little awkwardly, not knowing what to say and at the same time relishing the opportunity to watch her unobtrusively as she rummaged in her backpack.

Watching her still felt like finding water in the desert, but now it came with the knowledge that the water might be poisoned, might not save him after all. Their relationship after his admission had been a little more strained, although carefully hidden behind nonchalant words and a cautious mind.

And yet the sight of her still calmed him when he was upset; she still had a soothing touch that, he thought, she may never lose when it came to him. She was no less beautiful to him; no words from her could change that. Her eyes would never stop meaning so much to him and she-

He got lost in his thoughts and realized belatedly that Brennan had straightened up and that she was now holding a water bottle in front of his face. His face heated and he hoped she hadn't caught him staring. But if she had, she didn't let it on.

"You have had considerable amounts of alcohol, Booth. You should have some water." He nodded, not trusting his voice, and took the bottle from her, careful not to brush hands. It wouldn't do to encourage his attraction to her, especially in a small space like this.

He twisted the cap and drank the water, which was surprisingly fresh despite having spent the entire day in Brennan's backpack. He thought she would probably have some chemical explanation for that and bit back a grin when he imagined her explaining it to him. Instead, he passed the bottle to Brennan and tried not to be affected when her lips touched the spot where his lips had been just moments ago.

"So," he said when she'd stopped drinking, "setting up a tent, huh? Is there anything you _can't_ do, Bones?" He couldn't quite stop the admiration in his voice, even though it was present with equal amounts of teasing.

"Knowing how to set up a tent is very practical, Booth," she replied calmly. "It's a skill I had to have on my various digs."

"Yeah, I'm sure it came in handy on the Mapoopoo islands," he told her teasingly, butchering the name just to get a response out of her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Maluku, Booth, you know they're called the Maluku islands."

"Yeah, yeah," he told her with a wave of his hand. He grinned at her and she grinned back, and for a while it felt the way they had felt before, before bullets, brain surgeries and love declarations had changed them.

They both seemed to realize this at the same time and, though nothing changed, the atmosphere in the small tent was suddenly a little tenser.

Partly to break the silence, Booth yawned exaggeratedly. "I'm kinda tired, actually… I think I'm gonna turn in for the night." He didn't dare undress with Brennan so near – besides, he had packed no night clothes and it was far too cold to sleep naked, or with nothing but boxers on.

"We have to get up early tomorrow if we want to read D.C. before lunchtime," Brennan said seriously. She started rummaging in her back again and turned to looked at Booth. "Are you going to sleep in those clothes?" she asked, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

"Well, yeah, I didn't bring any… pajamas, or anything," he told her. "You did?"

"Of course I did," she replied, and he half-expected her to give him a lecture on the importance of proper clothing to sleep in, but she didn't. Instead, she pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweater and the tent suddenly became a lot warmer when he realized she was going to change _here_. In front of him. With no qualms, of course, considering it was _Brennan_ he was talking about. He turned away, but not before he saw her pulling up the shirt she was wearing, baring a tantalizing strip of naked back. He swallowed. He couldn't see these things – he couldn't even think them.

The change in their relationship became all the more clear in this moment – he thought that had it been two years ago, she'd have told him off for turning around, telling him he was a prude and that it was only a body. Now, she changed in silence and he didn't ask whether she was done. He just listened to the sounds her clothing made and only turned when he heard the zipper of the sleeping bag.

His own sleeping bag was cold. Booth ignored it as he snuggled inside. The tent was barely big enough to fit two people, and as a result, when he turned to face Brennan he found himself mere inches away from her face. For a few seconds, he stared at her, unable to stop himself. They had hardly ever been this close; so close that he could see the small, faint freckles on her nose. He absently wondered how long it would take him to count them all and was halfway through promising to himself that one day, he _would_ find out, when he caught himself and hastily backed away from her until he reached the canvas side of the tent.

Brennan was looking at him with a faint, distant smile and he couldn't quite tell what she was thinking. Abruptly, she broke the silence. "I camped with my mother in our backyard once."

She looked fond at the memory and, both eager to forget the previous moment and surprised at her seemingly random words, he smiled at her a little tentatively. He waited for her to continue, but she seemed lost in memory and so he just watched her, this time from a safer distance.  
"That must've been nice, Bones," he finally murmured, his voice a little husky.

She was startled out of her nostalgia. "We had a good time," she said. "She read me stories and we invented a story of our own."

He laughed at that, remembering how those artistic attempts had been with Parker and trying to picture a little Temperance, talking about fairies and monsters. The image was undeniably adorable.

She seemed to misinterpret his laughter for disdain. "It was very amusing," she said defensively.

"I know, Bones," he told her complacently. He wanted to add that he'd done the same thing with Parker, but somehow it felt like an intrusion on a moment between Brennan and her mother; he didn't want to disturb her. So instead, he just lay on his back and watched the roof of their tent. Gradually, he grew more tired until he just closed his eyes altogether.

Finally, her voice broke the silence. "Good night, Booth," Brennan told him and she sounded so homely, so _warm_, that instantly he wished she would tell him that every night.

The urge to tell her that suddenly became almost overwhelming, but instead he just bid her goodnight in return.

After a moment he became aware of how little the synthetic material of his sleeping bag did to warm him. He'd given Brennan the thicker one, not wanting her to catch a cold and thinking he could deal with the cold a lot easier than her. Apparently, though, he had underestimated the cold night. It was almost summer, for God's sake.  
He gripped the outsides of the bag tighter, trying to wrap himself up to generate more heat, but it didn't work. Trying to ignore the cold that was now beginning to seep into his bones, he turned on his back and listened to his partner's soft breathing. They'd shared a room before, but he'd never been so aware of her presence right next to him. Slowly, her rhythmic breathing soothed him to sleep.

It seemed like only two minutes later when he shot up, becoming aware of a pain both in his left foot and his lower back. He should've known, of course; the cold always aggravated the pain, but somehow, the fact had slipped his mind. Now he was left reaching for his foot, trying to massage the sudden pain out of it.  
His sudden motions woke up Brennan, who immediately sat up beside him and turned on the flashlight. Her arms were raised and her expression was quite feral before she looked at Booth and her face softened into worry.

"It's the cold," he answered the unspoken question, willing his teeth not to chatter. "Go back to sleep, Bones, I'll be fine."  
She ignored his words, and really, he should've expected that. When did she ever listen to him?

"You should've told me, Booth!" she said, sounding almost angry. "What are you doing?" she continued with furrowed brow as he wiggled out of his sleeping bag.

" Massaging usually helps," he answered, "and I can't massage my foot through the bag." No longer obstructed, he moved forward to grab his foot, but she was there before him.

"I have been told I am very good at giving massages," she told him, and he wondered whether she was aware of what her statement was doing to him; if she knew where his mind immediately went, even with the pain in his body.  
She pulled off his sock –Good Lord, Brennan was _undressing_ him– and started massaging, and despite the pain he was in heaven. He lay back down, unable to stop the wince that escaped him as his back protested against the movement.  
She noticed it; he could see something flash in her eyes, but she didn't say anything.

Brennan hadn't lied; she _was_ good at this. She kneaded his flesh with a soft bit firm hand, occasionally soothing the skin with a stroke of her fingers.  
After a while, he could feel his foot relaxing, a very odd feeling. Trying to ignore the less intense, but still present pain in his back, he sat up and smiled at her. He didn't know what would happen if she continued massaging him like that; though he was sure she thought nothing of it, it _did_ affect him in ways he didn't want her to know.

"Thanks, Bones," he said in an immensely grateful voice. She, however, finally decided to address something else.  
"Your back also hurts," she told him matter-of-factly, not expecting an answer. "Do you want me to massage your back, too?"  
He panicked. "No, Bones, I-" But she was pushing him around with those slender hands of her, forcing him to lie on his stomach. "It won't hurt, Booth," she said. "As I said, I've been told that I am very good at massaging people."  
She thought it would _hurt_ him. He wanted to laugh, but abruptly closed his mouth when he felt her hands on his back. "You have to take your shirt off," she said. She sounded more clinical; maybe this little situation was affecting her, too.  
"Bones, it's freezing!" he replied, alarmed. "Come on, let's just get back in our sleeping bags, I'll be fine." But his defense sounded weak even to his own ears and Brennan, unsurprisingly, ignored it. She started tugging on his shirt and he reached for her hands, stopping her before she could continue. "I can undress myself," he told her in a semi-annoyed voice and he felt her tense, knowing she hadn't detected the teasing tone in his voice. To assuage her, he turned around while he took off his shirt. As his head was stuck in his shirt, he didn't see her wide eyes as she took him in, nor did he see the panicked expression that crossed her face. When he looked at her face again, he saw nothing but well-kept composure.

Brennan, for her part, knew that giving her partner a massage –no matter how good she was at it – was not a good idea. The tension between them, the sexual feelings she could see in his eyes, and she could feel in herself, was likely to escalate further and by massaging him, she was likely to aggravate the tension to unknown heights.  
And yet, she couldn't find herself to care. Here she was, in a tent, with a man she had shared her life with, a man she felt closer to than anyone she knew and whom she trusted with, literally, with her life.  
They shared everything. Why had she ever said no to him? She had begun to regret that decision lately. She still had doubts, but the benefits were starting to overshadow them.  
She needed him. She was a passionate supporter of independence, but she couldn't deny the fact; the two weeks he had been dead to her proved it. She needed him.

And so she massaged him for a while, trying to remain calm despite the way she felt as she watched his back lose its tension under her skilled hands. Uncharacteristically, he didn't make any sounds, but the silence wasn't tense.

He didn't dare make any sounds. The way her hands felt on his back was too good to be true – way better than that other way she had fixed his back, a long time ago. This felt too intimate for them, but it felt _so_ good.  
He wondered what she was thinking. Was she, like him, thinking about that damned line? Was she thinking about what she'd said a few months ago? _I can't change… I don't know how…_ He could've quelled her doubts so easily, with just a few words: _I don't want you to change._ Why hadn't he? It was the truth and it seemed so simple now, in hindsight.

He couldn't stop a groan as she massaged a particularly low spot in his back. His body responded, he couldn't help it – it had been too long for him; cold showers just didn't do the trick anymore. He needed her, and not just in a physical way.  
Behind him, he heard a soft intake of breath and he knew, just _knew_, that this was affecting her. She felt more; he'd seen it in her eyes countless times. And even if she couldn't name it, didn't dare to define it, he _knew_ she loved him, too. It had made her refusal all the more painful; knowing the feelings were there, on both parts, but it just couldn't be.

He needed to think about that final statement, though, because the way her hands were roaming his back was definitely not in a merely friendly manner.

_Get a grip, Seeley_, he told himself. Here she was, his partner, giving him a back massage and he was thinking of turning around and showing her just how much he'd wanted her to say yes. He needed to find a way to deal with his feelings.

As she continued her massage in silence, though, he felt himself growing more relaxed. Her hands soothed his tired body. The ache had long gone and if he ignored the blatant sexual component, he was left with a feeling of contentment. If she continued this just a bit longer, she'd massage him to sleep.

So, finally, he turned around quickly. Her hands continued stroking and she brushed his chest before she pulled her hands away as if burned. She had a faraway look in her glazed eyes and it took her a while to realize what had happened; when she came back to earth, he had a response ready.

"Thanks, Bones, that was great." He tried to keep his voice neutral, but it came out low and gravelly, still affected by the back rub.

"Take my sleeping bag," Brennan said out of the blue.

"I – What?" He sputtered, convinced he'd heard her wrong.

"Take my sleeping bag," she repeated evenly. "The synthetic material of your sleeping bag is likely what caused you to have back pain in the first place."

How did she sound so… composed after that amazing massage? She sounded perfectly measured and even; however, when he looked closer, he noticed that her breathing was just a little bit faster; her pupils were just slightly bigger than normal.

"I'm not going to take your sleeping bag, Bones!" he protested. "Get back inside and sleep. I'll be fine."

She actually rolled her eyes. "While I appreciate your alpha-male behaviour, I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself warm," she told him. "Besides, I don't have any old war wounds that act up when it's cold."

"I'm not kicking you out into the cold," Booth said stubbornly.

"You're not 'kicking' me out; I'm offering," she corrected him. Then she sighed. "Fine, then," she conceded. "Then we will have to share."

"Share?"

"You can't stay in that bag, Booth. If you don't get a proper night's sleep and continue to be cold, your back muscles will cramp in the morning and you will not be able to sit in a car for an extended period of time."

He hated how she could sound so rational. He hated even more that he knew she was right. Nevertheless, he wasn't willing to give up so easily.

"I don't think two people will even fit into that bag, Bones." He eyed the sleeping bag in question; it was large enough to fit Brennan with some room to spare, but he seriously doubted two people could sleep in it without being completely intertwined. And no matter how much he liked her, or rather _because_ of it, he wasn't willing to sleep like that.

"It will fit," Brennan replied absently. She was already moving towards the bag. "Come on, Booth!" A tinge of frustration seeped into her voice. "We are two adults. Surely we can share a sleeping bag in order to remain warm?" Comprehension suddenly dawned on her face. "Or would our close proximity cause you problems?" She glanced down, briefly, before looking up at him. "I won't make fun of you. I promise I will behave normally. We are both fully clothed. Is it really that bad?"

Booth, by this time, held his head in his hands. "Yes, it is 'that bad', Bones," he said through gritted teeth.

She eyed him quietly for a while. "I'm sorry, Booth," she said softly and any hint of frustration was gone. "I never meant to hurt you." There was something in her eyes which he didn't dare identify, something soft and meaningful and too serious for this night.

His gaze softened. "I'm okay," he managed. "It's just that I don't think this-" he waved vaguely with his hand- "is a very good idea. For anyone. There's hardly any room!"

"It is the only solution I can think of," Brennan replied solemnly. "If you're really that opposed to it, I suppose I could go into the motel and sleep in the hallway of the rooms."

The thought of Bones going there alone was enough for him to make his decision. "No, Bones, it's fine," he finally decided. "We're two adults, right?" He shifted towards her sleeping bag, where she was already snuggled in. "I'll, er, man up and not maul you in your sleep." His feeble joke to lighten the atmosphere fell flat as she looked at him.

"I'm sure that any mauling you would do wouldn't be too terrible," she told him, promptly flushing red. Booth paused in his movements. Did she just tell him…? Nah, he decided, she must've been unsure of what she said. He smiled at her and eased into the bag, keeping as much space between them as possible.

The sleeping bag really was small. He could hardly avoid touching her and as such, they were both lying on their sides, facing each other. In the dim light, her eyes looked huge.

"Good night, Bones," he finally told her and he closed his eyes. The sleeping bag _was_ much warmer, whether because of the material or the shared body heat. He was already much more comfortable, is body in a weird state between relaxation from the massage and tension from the scene that had followed.

Even without opening his eyes, he could tell she was watching him. A small, childish part of him didn't want to open his eyes, but eventually he did, and Brennan closed hers immediately. He stifled a laugh that quickly vanished when he took her in. She looked small and innocent in the sleeping bag, her features closer to him than ever before and, before he even realized it, he had raised an arm to tenderly brush a lock of hair out of her face.

Her eyes stayed closed, but a smile played around her lips and suddenly, he felt a little bolder. He put his hand on her hip and used it to draw her closer to him. "We're adults," he whispered, reflecting her earlier words. She didn't say anything but snuggled closer to his chest. Her head fit just under the crook of his arm. _Like she'd been made for that place._

That night, they both slept with smiles on their faces.

* * *

**_Can you say 'aww'? xD_**

**_I was just really in the mood for some sweetness when I started this, and once I started I couldn't stop._**

**_Now, I think I will write an alternative (M-rated) ending. I don't know when it'll be up, but it _will_ be up._**

**_Please don't be shy; review! I could really use them, I feel like I'm entering unchartered waters here (isn't that the expression for entering into something you're not familiar with? American idioms are not my strong suit xD)  
_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Well, here it is, the M-rated alternative ending..._**

**_You have no idea how awkward it was to write this xD (or maybe you do...) I haven't got much experience with writing these scenes, especially when it comes to such complex characters as Booth and Brennan. They have so much history together and it's difficult to make the story 'fit' the characters._**

**_However, I tried, and I really, really hope I succeeded._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_

* * *

_**

_ "I don't think two people will even fit into that bag, Bones." He eyed the sleeping bag in question; it was large enough to fit Brennan with some room to spare, but he seriously doubted two people could sleep in it without being completely intertwined. And no matter how much he liked her, or rather because of it, he wasn't willing to sleep like that._

"Well, there is only one way to find out, isn't there?" He swallowed. She was right. His face tightened as he imagined what their sleeping arrangement could lead to in the end.

"Surely the idea of sharing a sleeping bag with me is not _that_ revolting?" she asked, hurt evident in her voice, and he realized how she must have interpreted his look.

"Bones, no, God no. You don't know…" he swallowed again. "I _want_ to. You have no idea how much I want to. But – it's – I'm not sure it's a good idea. I'm trying to stop this, Bones. I've been trying for a while now, ever since … But it's just - Please help me?" He sounded nervous, afraid he'd said too much too soon, but his fear was somewhat quelled when she leant forward and took his hand in hers.

"Booth." She waited until he was looking at her before she continued. "I believe you are referring to me turning you down when you professed your love for me." He winced almost instinctively and she gripped his hand just a little tighter. "I…" it was rare to hear her stumble; he watched her as she tried to find the words. "I have been thinking about that night and…" she took a deep breath. "I am starting to realize that maybe, I was wrong."

Silence followed her words. Booth was staring at her, unable to stop himself. She had just told him what he'd hoped she would, giving them a second chance. He'd thought he'd jump at the chance.

But now, it seemed so much more complicated than that. He couldn't think of anything to say, of how to respond to that statement. He just continued looking at her, feeling like an idiot but not really caring.

"Booth." Again, she didn't continue until she had his attention. "This is very confusing for me. I am not sure how my feelings can be defined and I have no idea how this will affect our partnership, but… I don't want to have any regrets, Booth. I… I care for you a lot and if there was anyone to do this with, it would be you, but… I'm afraid." He was startled to see a sheen of tears in her eyes. "I was afraid that night, Booth, I didn't… I mean, I – this frightens me."

A tear rolled down her cheek when she said that and he reached forward and slowly wiped it away, looking at her as he did so. She took a sudden, startled breath and he was moved by the naked emotion he could see in her eyes.

"_This_ frightens me," she repeated. "_This_… How you make me feel when you touch me. The look in your eyes sometimes… I am not familiar with it, Booth. I don't know how to respond to it." She was pleading with him to understand, but then, he thought, she'd never have to plead for that. He knew exactly what she meant.

"I understand it's scary," he finally opened his mouth. "God, baby, it's terrifying. There are so many things that could happen, that could go wrong… I'm scared shitless here – it, it was terrifying to tell you that I wanted more, it was – But it's _us_ we're talking about. We'd work, I just… I just know we will. C'mon Bones, don't you think we will?" He was pleading himself then, desperate to make her see that they _wouldn't_ mess it up.

She shook her head quickly, a shimmer of the old Brennan shining through. "You don't know that," she said, frustrated. "I envy your blind trust… but I'm not like that, Booth, I can't just… just _think_ it's going to be okay, I need to _know_."

He regarded for a moment, hand still on her face, and she looked back at him. There were so many things he saw in her eyes, and it almost physically hurt to know she had these doubts. He wished he could make her see…

Suddenly, he leant forward and placed his lips on hers. He felt her tense, but her lips were soft and delicious and suddenly he never wanted to let go. He kissed her softly at first, trying to stay composed (although, he reflected later, that had been a lost cause the moment his lips touched hers), but when he felt her respond he could no longer contain himself. She opened her mouth and their tongues touched, and he didn't know how he'd survived so long without this feeling, how he'd coped… He crushed her to him and she moaned in response, kissing him with renewed vigour until they ran out of breath, until they simply _had_ to break apart.

They stared at each other, trying to catch their breath. Her face was beautifully flushed and suddenly, he knew just how to convince her.

"Your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow and labored, your face is flushed, your heart rate has increased… Tell me that kiss didn't affect you, Bones. Tell me those aren't hard facts."

He knew she couldn't deny the effect their kiss had had on her –and on him – and so she stared at him helplessly, trying to put her thoughts into words.

"That just proves our physical attraction, Booth, it doesn't –"

"No," he cut her off. "No, Bones, that proves our love. You don't feel like that with somebody you don't love. You may be attracted to each other, but… this feeling now, it's love, Bones. You gotta believe me on this. It's love."

He could see the conflicted emotions within her; knew she _wanted_ to believe him. That knowledge alone made him feel a little more confident.

"Maybe you're right. We can't predict what it'll be like in a year, or five, or… thirty, but the important thing is we try, Bones. If you stop trying, you might as well stop living."

With a jolt, she seemed to come to a realization – and in that moment, in that movement, he knew he had won. Before he could process the thought, however, she'd flung herself at him and she was kissing him again and he couldn't think at all except for _more_. The feeling of her lips moving against his was pure ecstasy and he thought this was how drug addicts would feel when they got a shot: an exhilarating rush of relief and desire and love and so many things he'd come to associate solely with her.

His hand tangled in her hair as he tugged her closer, circling her waist with his other hand. He could feel the delicious curves of her body as she was pressed against him, her breasts forming a wonderful contrast with his hard upper body.

Her hands slipped under the shirt he'd hastily put on again after the massage and the feeling of those hands on his back nearly undid him; taking a moment to breathe, he moved his lips to the side of her neck and kissed her there, short, soft kisses that made her moan. The noises she made went straight to his groin and he shifted, trying to find some relief. Her skin was supple and so soft; she smelled vaguely like apricots, but mostly like _herself_, his amazing, wonderful Bones, whose hands were moving up and down his spine and making him shiver, whose breathy moans drove him crazy, _his_ Bones…

"Booth – ah…" she was panting and that name from her lips made him come down to earth, stopping just before he reached the point of no return. He forced himself to pull back, breaking contact with her skin to look at her.

"Are you -" his voice was husky and he scraped his throat in a futile attempt to talk. She seemed to think he was done talking, though, because she pulled him back to her and whispered "You make me feel so good, Booth".

Warning bells went off in the back of his head even as he continued kissing and sucking her skin. There were reasons why they shouldn't do this – he knew there were – but as she started tugging on his shirt, he couldn't think of a single one. His mind was muddled with bolts of electricity as her hands brushed his skin over and over again.

Finally, he broke away again. Panting heavily, he gently released her hands from the hem of his shirt and moved them in front of him.

"We gotta be sure about this," he told her in a low voice. "If we continue... I don't think I can stop."

Her eyes darkened impossibly at his words. "I don't want you to stop," she answered, and her voice was low and husky – a certain part of him responded heavily to her voice. There was a little, nagging voice in his brain telling him to think about this, to stop for a moment, but a far more overwhelming part of him ached to be connected to her again, to feel her divine body against him and to, for once, not _care_ about the consequences.

His lips touched hers again and this time, he eased her down until she lay flat, her lower body still in the sleeping bag. In a flash, he saw an image like in a dream: them, rolling around in bed, his hands roaming her back. But then she tugged on his shirt more insistently and the image vanished. He wasted no time in taking his shirt off. The coldness surprised him and he shivered. Without a word, Brennan held up the sleeping bag and he crawled inside, closing his eyes at the feeling of their lower bodies touching, a magic touch even with the layers of clothing they were both wearing. She reached out again and he followed her hand with dark eyes, unsure of what she wanted to do. Her intent became clear when the tent was suddenly plunged in darkness. He groped blindly for her hand and stopped her with a kiss before she could protest.

"I want to see you," he murmured into her hair. He felt the muscles of her face contract in a smile and suddenly, there was some light again, although it was still quite dark.

He pulled back from her and her eyes shot to his chest, taking him in.

"You have excellent muscle definition, Booth," she told him, touching his chest hesitantly. He closed his eyes as she brushed over his nipples. He'd never known he could be so sensitive to a woman's touch…

As he opened his eyes, they connected with hers and she raised her arms in silence. He nodded once and took off her sweater, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of bare, flat stomach. She was beautifully toned and he'd always known she'd look like that, but still the sight of it took his breath away.

Then her sweater was off and he was left to stare at her breasts, encased in a modest black bra. She was beautiful and as he finally dragged his eyes higher he knew that, despite the fact that she had never been insecure about her body, she _felt_ beautiful, too. Making her feel beautiful –loved – was a powerful drug and it propelled him to touch her stomach with one finger, slowly sliding upwards through the valley between her breasts before he reached her chin, and he kissed her again. Their upper bodies, mostly naked now, touched as their mouths connected and he moaned at the wonderful feeling.

"God, Bones…" he rasped, spanning her hips with his hands.

She took off her own bra, then arched beneath him. "Touch me," she whispered, and he did, entranced by the look of pure wonder in her eyes. Her nipples were erect and he bent down and took one in his mouth, skillfully tracing the outline until she quivered beneath him, her little breathy moans spurring him on. He switched to her other breast and his hand involuntarily moved downwards until he was pressing against her womanhood through her sweatpants. The contact made her buck against his hand and, distracted as he was by her body, he almost lost it when she massaged his bulge through his pants. Suddenly he knew he needed her now, and she seemed to come to the same realization as she deftly undid his belt with one hand, brushing his lower stomach as she did so. There was no room to take off his pants and so instead they pooled around his feet. He tugged hers down, too, inadvertently brushing her sex as he did so. She gasped and wriggled, increasing the friction.

"Booth…" her voice was so breathtakingly beautiful and he was distracted by the mewling sounds she made as she undulated against his hand. He knew instantly that he'd never heard a sweeter sound, the evidence of her need for him.

"Booth," she growled, a little more insistently, and he realized she was very impatient. Still, he looked at her, silently asking her a question. In her eyes, he could see nothing but need and trust and without any words he knew he'd gotten his answer. Slowly, his hand moved beneath her underwear until he cupped her, and she pressed up against him urgently. "I need you," she moaned breathlessly, and suddenly her own hand was in his shorts and she was touching him. His eyes rolled back in his head, the movement of her hand nearly too much.

She was soaked through and he slid a finger against her, desperate for her touch. She felt silky and heavenly, everything he'd ever dreamt off, and he slid her panties down her legs as she did with his boxers. There wasn't any room for slow revelations; they were constricted by the sleeping bag which made moving rather hard, and he was pressed against her body as he touched her, her nipple brushing his arm. Her hand was pumping him and he thought that if she didn't stop soon, he would come before they'd even reached the best part – she moaned loudly and he silenced her with a kiss, mindful of the silence of the night. God, her hand was moving so expertly, swiping his head and moving down again in one swooping motion, and finally he extracted an arm to stop her.

"You're – you don't…" he couldn't form complete sentences but she seemed to understand anyway. She grabbed his hand and slowly sucked his fingers, tasting her own juices. The movement was downright erotic and it went straight to his pulsating hardness. Swallowing, she brought their lower bodies together and they both moaned at the heady feeling. He paused for a moment – was she on the pill? – but she laid a finger against his lips. "I'm safe… I trust you, Booth," she whispered and the words were his undoing.

He slid into her and they both cried out in pleasure as they were finally joined. Her silken softness encased him and he stilled for a moment, trying not to explode. She was impossibly tight and her inconsistent moans were driving him higher and higher until he was fairly sure he was seeing stars.

She began undulating against him and he almost came at the very feeling. "Ah… Bones…" he wasn't sure which way was up anymore as he moved in her. She moved with him as if they were one, creating a rhythm that seemed to have been made just for them.

"Booth…" her moans were getting louder and he moved an arm downwards, touching her in time with his thrusts. She felt illegally good and he knew he wouldn't, _couldn't_, last, but judging by the sounds she was making, neither could she.

"Bones… I…" It was becoming difficult to maintain a rhythm; he wanted desperately to pound into her, to make her forget everything she knew.

"Let go," she whispered between moans, and her words were the trigger. He started moving faster, sliding into her deeper and deeper until she was mumbling incoherent words, getting louder until he kissed her again, swallowing her moans.

"I'm – ah – Booth," she was beyond words, but he somehow knew what she meant anyway and sped up his movements even more, jerking irregularly inside her. He felt her start to contract around him and, trying to prolong the experience, slowed down despite the primal instinct to piston inside of her. She cried out, her body caught in tremors.

"Look… at me…" she opened her beautiful eyes and it was both their undoing. She spasmed and her muscles pulled him in, triggering his own release. She was crying out loud, convulsing around him, and he lost himself in bliss, her warmth surrounding him, her moans in his ears…

Slowly, they came back down. She was breathing heavily, a flush spreading across her chest and face. She looked beautiful, relaxed and… _happy_.

"_That_ was making love," he broke the silence once his voice has returned to him.

"Wow," was all she said. "That – Booth – That was – "

He slowly pulled out of her and reached up for a kiss. "It was," he confirmed.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that she was amazing, but she looked adorable sleepy and he knew it would have to wait until a later time.

He turned on his side, reached out and flung an arm around her hips. She snuggled in closer and he could already feel the beginnings of renewed arousal as they spooned – but once was enough for tonight, no matter how much he wanted… more.

"Good night, Bones," he whispered into her hair.

She didn't reply, and, thinking she was already asleep, he closed his eyes and was gone in minutes.

Unaware that, beside him, Brennan was staring into the darkness, eyes wide open, amazed at what had happened.

Until she slowly fell asleep, too.

And they both slept with smiles on their faces.

* * *

**_This was _so_ weird to write. __There are probably a few errors in there__, but let's just blame it on English not being my native language, shall we?_**

**_If you were wondering, I think it is possible to make love in a sleeping bag... I mean, I've shared a one-person sleeping bag before, although I definitely didn't do what Booth and Brennan did here, and I had an awful night because it was really cold and the sleeping bag wouldn't zip up anymore - and of course, I was on the outside... so let's just pretend the sleeping bag in this question is bigger xD_**

**_I forgot to give some credit in the last chapter. This story was partially inspired by the story "Venturing into the Unknown" by Nothing But Bones, which is an absolutely amazing story you definitely need to check out. I hope she (he?) won't mind me using part of the concept, I honestly forgot to mention it earlier..._**

**_Mostly, though, I wanted to write a Bones story that wasn't incredibly angsty. And try for a bit of romance..._**

**_Did I succeed? Please tell me. Reviews are drugs and I need a fix!  
_**


End file.
